


Comfortingly Mundane

by blondekaspbrak



Category: IT (1990), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Amputee Eddie Kaspbrak, Canon Disabled Character, Domestic Fluff, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, M/M, Marriage, Mechanic Eddie Kaspbrak, Period-Typical Homophobia, Radio Host Richie Tozier, Richie 'Records' Tozier, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, based on book and miniseries canons, just a mention of marriage rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29420751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondekaspbrak/pseuds/blondekaspbrak
Summary: “Holy moly, a whole twenty minutes? You been having some good chucks without me, have ya?” He leans over Eddie’s shoulder, just for a moment, to ask the bartender for some water. Probably doesn’t wanna get drunk. Eddie doesn’t either.“Oh, yeah, like you wouldn’t believe. That lovely man behind the bar has a real charm to ‘im. Might even be funnier than you.” Richie gasps, feigning despair, pouting under his moustache.“Eddie Spaghetti, how could you wound me like this? After all we’ve been through together, you’re leaving me for another jokester?”Eddie picks up the glass of water just as the bartender places it down in front of them, swivelling to hand it to Richie along with a quiet chuckle. “You know you’re the only funny man for me, Rich.” Richie beams at him over the top of his glass, buck teeth n’ all. Bucky Beaver, they would say. Eddie never understood, still doesn’t. “What kind of scheming have you gotten up to, then?” He narrows his eyes teasingly, peering over Richie’s shoulder in a stage-like manner. “Is damage control necessary?”
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh (background), Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon (Background), Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris (background)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Writers Revolution Be My Valentine 2021





	Comfortingly Mundane

**Author's Note:**

> so this was written as part of a valentine's day event, and i collaborated with mads, who drew artwork for this fic which you should check out too!! i hope you enjoy this fic <3
> 
> [mads' art](https://madsdrawsthings.tumblr.com/post/643046793039446016/happy-valentines-day-everybody-blondekasp-and-i)

“Hiya, Eds! Fancy seeing you here.” Richie comes up behind him, claps him on the back heartily, apples of his cheeks rosy with the buzz of wine Eddie saw him pluck a glass of, off of a waiter’s tray when they arrived at the reception. “Jeez, how long’s it been, buddy?”

Eddie places his own glass down on the bar top, turning around to come to eye level with Richie’s collarbones, though he tilts his head up to meet his eyes. He puts on a contemplating expression, “Hm, around twenty minutes. Time really flies, huh?” Richie beams, already hunching over n’ planting an over the top kiss on each of Eddie’s cheeks, making sure not to miss adding in a loud ‘mwah!’ each time. A show for others, something else to them.

“Holy moly, a whole twenty minutes? You been having some good chucks without me, have ya?” He leans over Eddie’s shoulder, just for a moment, to ask the bartender for some water. Probably doesn’t wanna get drunk. Eddie doesn’t either.

“Oh, yeah, like you wouldn’t believe. That lovely man behind the bar has a real charm to ‘im. Might even be funnier than you.” Richie gasps, feigning despair, pouting under his moustache.

“Eddie Spaghetti, how could you wound me like this? After all we’ve been through together, you’re leaving me for another jokester?”

Eddie picks up the glass of water just as the bartender places it down in front of them, swivelling to hand it to Richie along with a quiet chuckle. “You know you’re the only funny man for me, Rich.” Richie beams at him over the top of his glass, buck teeth n’ all. Bucky Beaver, they would say. Eddie never understood, still doesn’t. “What kind of scheming have you gotten up to, then?” He narrows his eyes teasingly, peering over Richie’s shoulder in a stage-like manner. “Is damage control necessary?”

Suddenly, he’s in a headlock, playful much like the roughhousing of their youth. “Have a lil’ faith in me, Eds!” Eddie’s itching to fix his hair back into place as Richie gently ruffles it, knocking his glasses sideways. He lets Eddie go, giving him a moment to fix himself up as he glares at him, no real malice or irritation. “Was only talking to the happy groom.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me you were tormenting Ben.”

“Noo, Eds, no, no.” Richie waves his hand around, in a somewhat delicate manner, before he steps back a little. Eddie knows what comes next. “I says, you betta cherish my best girl Bev, or I’ll get my Spaghetti on ya.”

Eddie hasn’t heard the mobster in a while. Richie’s been spending a lot of time on his radio voices, practicing the ones popular with his listeners like Kinky Briefcase (Eddie’s still not entirely sure who that is; he’s not sure Richie knows that well either) or the forties announcer. Eddie doesn’t know how he ever lived in such a quiet house, let alone until he was in his forties, now that the many voices of Richie Tozier bounce off the walls of their home when they’re in the kitchen making coffee, when they’re lying awake, at the will of their shared insomnia, or in the car on the way to the grocery store.

“Don’t involve me in your mafia antics, you menace. If I wasn’t independently making as much money as you, I’d say that’s why I was with you. No mobster activities for me.” Richie waggles his eyebrows.

“So, what is it then?”

“What’s what?”

“The thing that motivates you to continue this relationship. It’s the moustache, isn’t it? Couldn’t resist the Tom Selleck vibes I got goin’ on?” Eddie rolls his eyes, shoving Richie’s shoulder gently, but not letting him get too far. “You can admit it, Eddie Spaghetti, I ain’t got nobody to tell.” Maybe he should become a mime with the amount of times he’s zipped his lips.

“Shut up, dork. Let’s go sit at the table, I’m too old to be standing this long.” Richie follows close behind him as they weave through groups of people to get to the head table. Their hands are clasped together, behind Eddie’s back n’ pressed against Richie’s stomach. They let go once they reach their destination. “Hi, guys. This reception is beautiful, you did an amazing job.”

Bev stands from her seat, going to Eddie for a gentle hug, tight n’ warm. Ben follows suit, walking around the table to stand beside Richie. “Thanks, Eddie. I’m really glad you guys are here.”

“Well, of course, Bev. We wouldn't miss it.” Eddie smiles, his only hand still holding her bicep in a light clutch. She laughs quietly to herself, nodding.

“I just— it’s never how I imagined things would have turned out. When I was still with… before we came back to Derry, I thought that my life would be the same until I died. Having the last few years with you guys after being apart for so long has just been amazing. I mean it, I’m so glad you’re here.” Ben stepped sideways to come up beside his new wife, sliding an arm behind her back. 

Eddie finally drops his hand to give Bev the opportunity to move closer into Ben’s side. “Me too, Bev. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” He feels Richie drape an arm over his shoulders. “Are you going for a dance? I think I saw Bill an’ Mike trying to coordinate themselves on the dance floor.”

Ben chuckles, “Yeah, Eddie, I think you’re right.” He tips his chin upwards in the direction of Mike n’ Bill, clumsy on their feet n’ with their hands clutching each other. Eddie momentarily reminisces on the early months of his life with Richie post-Derry. “Would you like to dance, Bev?”

She takes Ben’s hand, n’ Eddie watches them walk back the way he had just come with Richie. “What do you think’s going on with Mike an’ Bill?”

“Hm, not sure, Eds. Looks like they mighta got a lil’ romance cooking on the stove.” Richie supports his chin with one hand, elbow pressed into the tabletop. The cloth over the table makes for a great opportunity to play footsie without anybody noticing.

“I think you might be right. Hopefully it goes smoothly, they’ve had a few years to get to know each other again so that’ll help.” He watches Bill move Mike’s hand to his waist. “They seem pretty open about it.” He turns back to Richie, smiling gingerly.

Richie nods, “Yeah, they do. It’ll be our time some day, y’know.”

“I suppose you’re right. I guess a part of me sort of hoped that they’d figure it out so that we wouldn’t have to tell them.”

“Are ya ready for them to know?”

“I don’t know.”

Richie slides his hand up to Eddie’s neck, rubbing the back of it gently. Eddie deflates immediately. “Then s’probably better that they haven’t figured it out. We've got the rest of our lives to tell them, Eds, ya don’t have to be ready now.” He's grown so much.

“You’re right, I know you are.” It’s at times like these he notices how different things are now. In more ways than one, he supposes. They fall into silence for a couple of minutes, listening to the music from the speakers n’ watching their friends on the dance floor. He doesn’t think it through for very long before he asks, “What d’you think about marriage, Rich?”

It’s a bold question, but he only realises once it’s already out of his mouth n’ Richie’s eyebrows have shot up. He recovers though, just as usual, hand comfortable on the back of Eddie’s chair. “Well, marriages ain’t exactly been my friend in the past, Spaghetti Man.” He doesn’t know much about Richie’s past wives. There’s not much to say, he supposes—other than that there were four of them, and that not a lot can be said for Richie’s connection with them. “Probably ‘cause I rushed into them so fast, n’, well, one of them was a Swedish model n’ I don't speak Swedish.” Richie swallows, smiling sheepishly. Eddie can't help wanting to reach out n’ touch his upper lip with his thumb.

“I, uh, I suppose I’ve thought about marriage since we’ve been living together. M’totally whipped for ya, y’know.” Eddie has to actively remind himself to check their surroundings for prying eyes, “I know we couldn’t… we couldn’t get married legally but to call ya my husband would be dandy.” 

Warmth finds its way inside Eddie’s chest, sliding through the rungs of his rib cage; he doesn’t think  
twice about taking Richie’s hand under the table. “Really?” There's a thumb rubbing the back of his hand n’ a simper resting beneath Richie’s moustache, accompanied by a gentle hum of agreement. “I’d like that too, Rich.”

Marriage is completely uncharted territory for Eddie, though he supposes relationships in general were up until a few years ago, too. He dreads to wonder what kind of person he might be with now, had his mother died at any point during those years between his childhood n’ now. In some way, he still misses her. It’s just another symptom of the guilt he feels for leaving her. He feels it less everyday, but even after all this time he finds himself wondering about what she might be thinking of him now.

Ring shopping is an interesting experience. Eddie’s somewhat conscious of the surrounding people at all times, n’ despite how far-fetched it may be, he worries that they know the ring is not for the conventional purpose. He smiles n’ nods through the woman helping him referring to his ‘fiancé’ (he supposes they are in a sense, they never discussed it, probably too eager to get to the next stage) as his ‘girlfriend’, or even just using words like ‘she’ or ‘her’. He doesn’t expect her to know, wouldn’t dare tell her, but it is awkward for him.

Coming home is always a relief, no matter how good the day up to this point has been; it’ll still never be better than getting to spend the rest of it with Richie. It’s Eddie’s turn to cook tonight, so Richie’s setting the table when he opens the front door. “Eds! Just on time, I just finished washing the pots.” Richie ducks slightly under the door frame as he leaves the kitchen, approaching Eddie with opening arms, ready to welcome him into them. “Did ya have a good day?”

“I did, I finally finished working on that car I was telling you about.” 

“That’s great!” He leans down, hands on Eddie’s shoulders, n’ kisses both of his cheeks gently. “D’ya need help taking off your harness?” He asks, taking Eddie’s hand as they walk to the living room. The ambience is warm by the light of the candles Richie lit before Eddie came home, gentle like the buzz of the sitcom playing on their television. Their home is full, just the way Eddie likes it to be.

He rolls his shoulder at the mention of his prosthetic, “No, s’alright, I'll keep it on until I’ve finished making dinner, feels easier.” He gets to it right away, turning on the stove n’ retrieving ingredients from the fridge n’ the cupboards. Richie’s never too far away whenever Eddie’s cooking; usually sitting on the sofa in the living room, or at the kitchen island, maybe on one of the counters until Eddie scolds him gently for contaminating the surface. Today, he chooses to stand behind Eddie, gently pressing his fingers into Eddie’s sides n’ tickling him at opportune moments.

“Be careful, Rich, I’ll end up spilling something.” He chuckles, wriggling in Richie’s grasp, careful not to let the pasta sauce spatter. He feels Richie laughing against his neck, finally relenting n’ dropping his hands. He feels Richie laughing against his neck, finally relenting n’ dropping his hands. “Oh, I forgot to mention, Stan called me earlier today. He an’ Patty wants us to come over for dinner soon.”

Richie hums, “Sounds neat, we haven’t had dinner with them in a while. Got a date set, yet?” 

“Not yet, they said most days are good for them, I was thinking maybe next Sunday since you’re not at the station then?”

Richie steps back to allow space for Eddie to carry the pot to the colander, pouring the pasta into it Richie grabs two plates from the top cupboard n' sets them down on the counter, taking the colander from Eddie. Once the pasta n' the sauce is on both plates, they sit down at the dining table to eat. Eddie's noticed that Richie likes to put on a record or whatever cheesy made-for-television movie is on during dinner, the soundtrack to their conversation about the going-ons of the day. Richie always has a new story about what somebody got up to at work today or a technical issue that messed up his broadcast for a couple of minutes. Most of their days can be summarised like this, it's comfortingly mundane. Normalcy is essential to both of them, n' he bets the other losers feel the same. 

Once dinner is over n' done with Richie helps Eddie take his prosthetic off, n' they settle onto the sofa, now actually paying attention to the movie in front of them, though they don't really know what's going on, sleepy n' only starting halfway through. "Alright, Eds, think m'gonna go n' put on some pajamas." He stands slowly, groaning as he does. Eddie nods, going to follow him to the bedroom, until he remembers the box in his pocket.

"Wait, Rich, can you stay for a second?" He reaches into his pocket, revealing it to Richie, who appears to light up right away. If he still wore glasses, Eddie's sure he would be exercising the habit of pushing them up nervously. He sits down again without a word, his face saying it all, n' he waits for Eddie to speak again. "I hope you like it. It's nothing too fancy, I thought you'd want something simple? I got the inside engraved, is that lame? It's sort of cheesy, I know." He opens the box n' hands it to Richie slowly.

"Eds, breathe." Richie chuckles, resting one of his hands on Eddie's knee, rubbing his thumb over it, "It's swell, I love it. Really." He turns the silver wedding band over in his fingers, peering closer to see the engraving. It's simple, just says _Love, Eds_ , "Oh, Eds, this is adorable. What a cutie you are!" He pinches Eddie's cheek, earning a couple of batty hands colliding with his own. "I actually have yours here, too." He sets the box down in his lap, letting go of Eddie just for a moment to lean over n' retrieve his own ring box from the drawer beside the sofa. 

"We have similar taste, I see." Eddie leans into Richie, head resting on his shoulder as he takes the ring from Richie. As it turns out, Richie bought an engraved ring, too. _Spaghetti_ , it reads. Eddie giggles quietly, mostly into Richie's collar bone, laced by sleepiness n' relief. He turns his hand over, sliding the ring onto his finger, grabbing Richie's hand n' the ring. "Can I put it on for you?" Richie nods, eyes drooping a little. They'll have to get to bed, soon. The ring glides over Richie's calloused skin slowly, a little jolt from the coolness of the metal, Eddie assumes, based on his own ring. "Rich?" He tilts his head up as much as he can to get a good look at Richie, squinting eyes n' sleepy smiles n' all. "I love you."

Richie hunches over, it probably hurts his neck a little, n' gives him a lazy kiss. In their sleepy haze, they sort of miss each other's lips n' have to reposition for a second, but it's perfect. It just fits. "I love you too, Eds. Now, lets get to bed, we can bask in this glory in the morning, m'about to fall asleep right now." 

Eddie pushes Richie's curls away from his eyes, pressing another kiss to his mouth, hands shaky n' eyes closing n' head all smiley. It's comfortingly mundane, just the way he likes it.


End file.
